The Blue Hour
by horrendoushaddock
Summary: Oneshot. Werewolf AU. The gold in the sky gives way to blue, and the moon rises early.


**A/N:** RP inspired, and written for mogadeer over on tumblr!

 **The Blue Hour**

It starts like this: the moon.

No matter where you start this story, it will always begin with the moon.

The moon rises, and then there are teeth and claws, and blood. The bite is an unwanted gift from one stranger to another. It doesn't lessen it as it's spread, doesn't somehow still the mad and pacing beast deeper still than skin. It cannot be given away, no matter how many times you bite or scratch. It's a cruel and terrible thing to have done, and perhaps death would be kinder.

But death doesn't come. Instead, something worse.

There will always be the moon, and there will always be blood.

* * *

Varian doesn't need to look at the time to know that Rapunzel is late. Not painfully so, and if things were different, he likes to think these few minutes wouldn't really matter. But time is of the essence right now, and he's not too terribly sure what he'll do without her. The sun is setting, the golden hour is upon the kingdom of Corona, and it won't be much longer before the moon begins to rise.

He contemplates, for just a moment, if he should leave and head to the castle. If he's fast, he may be able to make it in time. Maybe, he thinks, he'll even meet her half way. But that's not really a risk he's willing to take, no matter how desperate he is right now. As the moon draws closer, though, it's harder to adjust to the idea of being trapped in this tiny building, without Rapunzel.

But… no. Not without her. She'll be to him soon enough, he knows this. He supposes this is the price he pays for befriending the princess, and it's worse that he's come to rely so strongly on her in this awful situation. He isn't quite sure why, but during these terrible nights just having her nearby helps him think a little clearer. Helps him hold on to his last few shreds of humanity.

He begins to pace in front of the door. It's better than just sitting around and waiting, stewing in his own impatience and anxiety. At least this gives him something to do. He can focus on his own footfalls, or the way the wood creaks beneath his weight, instead of the frantic thrumming in his chest.

"Where is she?" he mumbles aloud, to himself - because Quirin isn't home, and he's long since scared Ruddiger away for the night. The raccoon doesn't understand, Varian knows this, but he can hope that someday he might. It's for his own good. He doesn't know what he would do if he accidentally…

Probably best not to think about that. Probably best not to think about a lot of things right now. Like the ache in his spine or the knots in his stomach.

He stops his pacing by the window, and stares intently out toward the pathways. There's no sign of her - none to be seen, none to be heard, or even scented. He rubs anxiously at one arm, only vaguely aware of just how sharp his nails suddenly are. They catch in his short sleeve, leave pink welts on his skin.

The gold of the sky is giving way to blue, and Varian doesn't need to look for the moon to know it's rising. He can feel it, that pull that draws the worst in him out. His hands leave his arms and find their way into his hair, fingers raking through black and blue. Time is running so short, and he doesn't know what to do. Since he was bitten, he's only spent one full moon alone, and… Well. That's one more thing he doesn't want to think about, now or ever, really. But every full moon after, Rapunzel has been there with him, to keep him calm and hidden - a task that, he knows, is much easier said than done.

Just when he's about to pull at his hair again, the sound of someone approaching the door catches his attention. He's focused on the door again, heart hammering and chest heaving, terrified and hopeful all at once. It's entirely possible that he had been so caught up in his own head, he hadn't noticed Rapunzel approaching. He draws in a deep breath, both to calm himself and to try and catch the scent of whoever is on the other side of the door.

His breath hitches, and he watches in nothing short of horror as Quirin opens the door. His father looks relieved, but he stinks of fear, and Varian takes a cautious step back when the door is shut behind Quirin.

"No - no no no," Varian all but whimpers and furrows his brow as he forces himself to look away from Quirin and begins his pacing again. "You can't be here - "

Quirin is quiet for just a moment, but it feels much longer. The older man sighs, his breath quivering as it leaves him. "Varian - "

The pity in his voice is not something Varian needs or wants right now, and it makes the thing inside him bristle. He makes tight fists, and nails-turned-claws press into his palm. Deep down, he knows that Quirin is worried and he wants to help. Such a strange turn, considering he had been the one appointed to lead the small mob of Old Coronians in their hunt for the monster. So, when Quirin had learned the hard way that his son was the monster in question, it had been a surprise when he had ushered both he and Rapunzel back into the woods to hide.

" - I want to help you," Quirin finishes. He makes the slightest movement forward, and Varian takes a wide step away from him, shaking his head.

"You can't help right now," Varian says quickly, and realizes quick enough that the more effort he puts into avoiding Quirin, the more it feels like he's being cornered. And the wolf doesn't like that. His chest starts to heave again, deep and heavy breaths. "Please," it's desperate, almost a whimper, "please, just go - "

"Varian…" It comes out much softer than Varian expected, and it makes his heart ache. Quirin has never been the softest of father figures, and the one moment he wants to help, Varian can't let him.

A familiar and terrible ache creeps up his spine, and suddenly Varian grunts in discomfort. He arches his back, and lifts his hands to his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. The moon is rising, and this is going to happen whether Rapunzel is here or not. It's going to happen whether Quirin listens or not. Another low groan and a heaving breath.

"Get out."

He doesn't need to see Quirin to know he's moving closer. The stench of his worry and fear is stronger now, too. When he pulls his hands away, Quirin is as close as he expected, barely a foot away. He gasps quietly, the sight of his son's much brighter blue eyes surprising.

"You need to go," Varian tells him, speaking quickly and urgently. "You need to go, right now."

"Varian," Quirin starts again, and this time he's reaching toward him. Varian's gaze darts toward that hand, and his breath hitches in the moment it takes gentle hold of his arm. The touch is unwanted, unnecessary, and it feels as though it burns. He doesn't think twice before shoving Quirin off of him, with enough force to send the older man stumbling back a few steps.

"Go!" A growl rises in his throat as he shouts, fangs bared. Another shock of pain shoots up his spine, and this time he hunches forward. There's no stopping this, and he turns his head just enough to see the moon in the sky, hanging low but so full and bright. And it's calling him.

The wolf answers, finally.

Quirin reaches for him again, this time both hands on his shoulders, and Varian can feel his hold shifting as his bone structure changes entirely. Quirin doesn't really know what to do with his hands, and Varian no longer has the words to tell him to let go. Soon enough, those hands leave him, if only because his body is twisting and contorting into something bigger, something terrifying that Quirin's ever only really glimpsed once.

And when it's done, there is only the wolf, black and massive, standing over the shreds of clothing Varian hadn't had the time to remove. He pants, shakes off the remaining aches of the change. Then, he lifts his eyes to Quirin.

His father is still standing there, stock still and caught up horror and awe alike. His eyes are searching the beast before him, and those hands are foolishly coming toward him again. The wolf snarls, lips pulled back in clear warning. It's the least Varian can do right now to warn Quirin away one more time.

"Varian!" Rapunzel's voice rings clear through the door before it even opens. "Varian - I am so sorry, I tried to get here as soon as… "

She stops speaking once the door is completely open, and she sees Quirin standing there before the wolf. "Oh no," she gasps, and pushes her way passed Quirin and toward Varian.

A part of him wants to meet her halfway, but the door is open now. His gaze flits between the princess and his father, and then to the door again. There's no real second thought as he shoves his way violently passed the both of them. Rapunzel manages to side-step, pressing her back to a wall to avoid him. Quirin isn't quite so fast, and he's shoved roughly out of the way. Varian's already gone by the time Quirin's bent at the side over a nearby table, his arm awkwardly caught between.

"Quirin - !" Rapunzel is quick and at his side, a frown pulling at her lips. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here soon, but I - "

"You don't need to explain, Princess," the older man assures her, grunting as he pulls away from the table. A pain shoots up his arm as he tries to move it, and he instinctively cradles it to his chest.

Rapunzel notices, and the frown worsens. "Oh, no…"

"Don't worry about me," Quirin tells her, and nods toward the door. "I can take care of this myself."

She's hesitant, but she knows he's right. She can't just leave Varian to wander. When left to his own devices, the wolf can't be trusted. They've learned this the hard way before.

"Please," Quirin presses on. "Go. Keep him safe."

Rapunzel gives a slow nod, then makes her way toward the door. "I will."


End file.
